


Adrift

by Brynnen, TwaCorbies (Brynnen)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Aftermath, Gen, Genocide, Hurt/Comfort, Mourning, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/Brynnen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/TwaCorbies
Summary: The ashes of Jedha swirl in space, as without so the survivors' mind are in turmoil.It can't all be for naught, just a random assortment of strangers, coagulating together around their own hurts.





	Adrift

Chirrut Îmwe turned his head, letting his blind eyes fall on the two children. Two lost little ones who'd in their different ways shown courage and who to his Force senses seemed twinned by tragedy. Bodhi and Jyn, he recalled their names without any especial care. Names shifted, faces could be altered, but the truth shown to him by the Force ignored such ephemeral detritus.

  
Îmwe wondered if they looked alike to conventional sight, turned his head away from them when Jyn looked up. She'd placed herself beside the almost catatonic pilot, acting as a barrier between him and the rest of the group. Even if she hadn't seen Captain Andor badgering the young man for information her gut had obviously decided Bodhi needed protecting from Andor. Even wrapped in grief she did that much. It was a harsh universe that had shaped her, had shaped them all into this haphazard assortment of wounded fools scrabbling for answers, striving for peace through war. But they didn't have to give into that harshness.

  
Îmwe stood, stretched his muscles and surveyed the pathways around the ship.

  
'Where are you going?' Baze was keyed up, spilling over with protectiveness he couldn't let show any more. Chirrut grieved for the man he'd been, even as he smiled up at this new version of his friend.

  
'To see if there's a kitchen on this spaceship. And then to see if there is any tea aboard.' It was preferable to thinking about Jedah's crumbling remains.

  
'Of course.' There was a smile in Baze's voice that probably hadn't been allowed across his face.

  
'Spaceships do not have kitchens. They have galleys.' K-2SO piped up in that voice that shouldn't be any different from any of it's sibling droids, yet somehow conveyed a prissy pessimism in those around it's abilities.

  
Chirrut went to find the galley instead. He suspected they would be in transit for days, no sense in being more uncomfortable than necessary, so he took stock of the supplies and set a kettle boiling.

  
It was cold here. The cold bench and floor were cold and the cold and hard were seeping up his legs and backside. Vaguely he was aware that his body was sat in a troopship, a cold troopship. Part of his mind, the little bit of competent pilot left after... that part thought the ship's engines needed tuning.

  
The rest of Bodhi's mind was quailing and gibbering at what the resistance had done to him. The people Galen had said needed his help, the good ones taking on the Empire's evil. His thoughts circled around again; he felt cool, mucous-damp tentacles slither up his body, his face, the invasion, the screaming, was that out loud or in his head? Terror, terror and pain and the violation and...

  
Jyn felt the pilot shudder, just slightly next to her and she looked over into staring brown eyes full of something she didn't want to think Gerrera had put there, but all too aware of how ruthless he could be, for all that... dammit, she could think it now he was dead... For all that she had loved him as the father he'd been to her.

The rebel alliance had cut him loose, a gang of desperadoes like them had felt Saw was too much of a loose cannon and Jyn had seen his ruthless side enough in her almost ten years of being raised by the man. Grief howled up from her guts, making her gasp and hunch forward, curling into herself so the others couldn't see her face.

  
Andor sat in the copilot's seat beside K-2SO, mind reeling with shock and exhaustion. It made contemplating his next move difficult. Could he trust what Galen's daughter had said to be true? Could he trust her in any way? He certainly couldn't trust the little criminal to behave in any sort of consistent fashion, let alone determine any motive that wasn't a random impulse.

  
As to the pilot... Andor couldn't help the sound of disgust that wrenched from him at the thought of the whelp. Some conscript barely off his mama's apron strings, probably manipulated by Galen into what little he'd managed to do thus far. He could hardly believe the skinny little devil had even managed to defect, felt a prickle of fear at that thought. He'd use that Intel, every scrap he could plunder from the boy, but always on the proviso Rook could be a plant. The thought was far too familiar for his tastes, but they'd got this far.

  
Anyone could be on the take from the Empire and having a ship full of unknown variables made his skin crawl. Taking on the Empire was difficult enough without a stroppy girl, a daft flyboy and those two deluded fools they'd found hanging about the temple like they had no place better to go dragging him down.

  
His fingers tightened around the steering yoke. The mission would go on and he would do what it took to take down the Empire, in spite of the others.

  
Warmth? His hands were warm, but the rest of him was cold. Bodhi pulled his mind away from the spiralling pain and fear to try and look at why his hands were warm. Big hands were holding his hands around a mug? He jerked in surprise and suddenly sound began filtering into his consciousness, along with pain as hot liquid hit his leg.

  
'Steady there kid, it's only tea. A nice warm drink to get you thawed out'

  
'It's alright, he's not going to hurt you.'

  
Two voices sounded at once over the sound of stressed engines and Bodhi managed to wrench his head up to look into their faces. A girl about his age and a middle-aged man, who held his hands around a mug of tea, the heat of ceramic under his fingers and calloused palms engulfing his hands. The quiet strength made him feel dizzy and he reeled, feeling his balance slip away.

  
Baze looked into the lad's wildly rolling eyes and quelled a flinch. He'd seen enough torture in his time to recognise the damage left behind in the pilot's mind. He seemed physically intact, had certainly run well enough when it was needed, but the babbling wreck in the other cell and this mute, broken figure were far from well.

  
Jyn slung her arms about his torso to keep the pilot from falling off the bench and winced at how cold he was. The big fellow from the temple guided the pilot's hands to lift the mug of tea to his lips and gradually coaxed him to drink up, while Jyn kept them upright. A little warmth collected between their bodies, making something in her belly uncoil a little and Jyn rested her forehead on his shoulder, trying to breathe slowly through the maelstrom of emotions that seized her.

  
'I couldn't find anything but ration bars, but all of us require energy to live, so here we are.' Chirrut appeared with a packet of the bland, savoury food that could sustain life indefinitely, so long as a person could handle the boredom. He had two more mugs in his other hand and he settled down with the rest of the mismatched group to eat and drink.

  
Jyn broke off a bite of hers and popped it in her mouth, then broke off a bite to offer out to the pilot like he was a wild animal she was trying to tame. 'Eat up, you look like you're hungry.' She chewed harder and grimaced. 'I'd say the food's good, but I don't want to lie to you.'

  
The way he stared was weird and unnerving, but he slowly extended his hand to accept the ration bit from her. He moved strangely, like the mind telling his body what to do was in the next star system over. How had he been capable of flying spaceships? Everyone knew the empire needed sentients badly to keep supply lines running, but surely they weren't desperate enough to take on someone like him?

  
Jyn looked over to the big fellow, Baze? She was pretty sure that was his name. He loomed over the other three of them shivering together in the hold, but his steady movements and calm demeanour made her feel reassured by his presence. Saw had been big and reassuring, a rock for years and now, no matter how angry she'd been at him for abandoning her, she would never see him again. The last scrap of family she'd ever had was gone and the taunting thought that her father was alive, but impossible to reach was all she had left.

  
A hand grasped hers as she tried to ignore the tears heating her cheeks on the way down to drip off her jaw. The pilot looked confused and scared, but he'd clawed his way out of whatever Hell filled his head to squeeze her hand. She squeezed back as she bowed her head to try and hide the tears that just wouldn't stop. No one said a thing, but thin fingers tangled through hers and the teacup in her other hand never emptied as they huddled together in silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop.


End file.
